


Waiting to Inhale

by oleanderedits



Series: A Long Night's Ride [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead (Video Games), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: AU (Canon Divergence), Friends to Lovers, Jacqui lives, M/M, Pre-Slash, Racist Language, Slow Burn Romance, darlenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 18:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5015071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oleanderedits/pseuds/oleanderedits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl and Glenn were both grabbed by the Vatos and no one came to trade for them. That small betrayal of trust quickly grows a rift between them and the rest of the group.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Out of the Frying Pan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MrowSaystheCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrowSaystheCat/gifts).



> Mixing TWD Video Game series with TWD Television Series for storyline purposes

Two days the Vatos held them hostage. Two days they waited for rescue that Glenn was so damn sure would be coming. That he still had the luxury of being optimistic would have been laughable to Daryl if he wasn't the one tied up the whole time. They let the kid walk around and kept him trussed up like a Christmas ham.

Glenn tried to be a friend. Came in and spent a few hours here and there with him, telling him about who the Vatos were and all the people they were trying to help. Daryl fought his bonds the first day, but by the second he was drained and actually managed to make decent conversation with the kid. Laughed at a couple jokes Glenn made. Half-hoped he was right about Rick coming back to get them the same as he'd volunteered to come for Merle.

The morning of the third day killed that hope pretty damn cleanly. The kid that had been left behind, the one that distracted Daryl and gave the others time to grab Glenn and then him, his body was found wandering a couple blocks from the intersection. In that same alley. The bottom left half of his body was all chewed up and it was a good bet he'd died before Rick or T-Dog could get any info out of him. At that point all anyone could do was assume the two had taken the guns and run.

So Glenn and Daryl were let go, given a couple gallons of gas for a car if they could find a working one. Their weapons returned. Some water and a few snack bars for the trip. Apologies, too. And an invitation to return if they wanted.

Glenn was the one that thanked them and promised to talk to their people about sharing the guns. Maybe even come back and join up. The quarry had a good lake. Fresh water that was safe if it was boiled. And good hunting out there some days. He was optimistic about setting it up as a run site for those in the city.

He was always so damn optimistic.

So much that Daryl actually held a little hope that he was right. That they'd get back and everyone would be so relieved. They could tell them the kidnapping was all a misunderstanding. They could move to the safety of the Vatos' compound. Maybe have some real beds again. They hadn't found Merle, but if they were in the city they'd have an easier time looking. He couldn't have gotten far with a missing hand, no matter how tough he was. He'd have to hole up somewhere.

Daryl shouldn't have let Glenn get him worked up like that. Because when they pulled into the camp, there was only enough left to tell them there wasn't anything worth taking. Not really. Merle's bike was still there. His own truck. Both his and Glenn's gear set up with their tents. But the camp was deserted.

Instead of the RV they were greeted by a pile of burned walkers and that stripped down car Glenn had mourned the loss of the day they left.

“This is your fault,” Daryl growled out, quiet at first. But practically yelling the second time around. “This is all your fault; you hear me?”

“'They'll come for us!'” he mocked, making his voice high-pitched and as overly 'innocent' as he could. “'Rick went back for Merle! He'll come back for us too!'”

Daryl kicked the ground and turned on his heel, stomping over to his truck to check the damage there. He wasn't exactly surprised to find it's tank sitting at empty. They'd probably siphoned what they could. At least they left his shit.

“Fuckin' vultures,” he muttered and made his way over to Merle's bike to take a look at that. Glenn was still standing there, staring at the camp with disbelieving eyes. Not something Daryl needed to deal with at the moment. So he waved his hand at the red car and shouted, “Hey! Shortround! Move your ass and check the note they left!”

That seemed to snap Glenn out of it and the kid shuffled over to do that. Daryl watched him out of the corner of his eye as he pulled the plastic bag off the car and took the small pile of papers out of it.

“They're heading to the CDC,” he called back, still looking distracted. At least he was moving.

“They say where it is?” Daryl asked, attention going to the bike now that Glenn had been dealt with. He didn't wait for an answer as he tapped the gas tank, a little surprised at what he saw, and went on talking, “From the looks of it they got hit by walkers. Same day we got grabbed probably. Or day after. Didn't really have a choice to move whoever was left after. Bettin' that's why they didn't come lookin'.”

He was half saying it for Glenn's benefit and half for his own. Saving whatever was left of the group's collective asses was the smart play when they didn't have much to go on to look for him and Glenn. The idea didn't completely mollify him, but he felt a little better knowing they hadn't been outright left behind.

“They filled the tank on the bike,” he continued after a moment, lips twisting into something resembling a smile as he teased Glenn, “What made them think I'm letting your ass on it, I ain't got no clue.”

Glenn didn't smile back, though. His mouth tightened and he gulped a little before walking over and holding the packet out for Daryl to have a look at, “Probably because they didn't mean to leave it for us? This wasn't, from the look of it.”

Daryl frowned and grabbed the packet and in the next moment he was up and pacing. The note was to someone named Morgan. Who the fuck was Morgan? He flipped through the packet, the map, the extra paper, back to the note. Their names weren't anywhere on it. Just this Morgan chick.

But that didn't fit at all. Rick... Rick was better than Shane. Wasn't he? Man seemed like he had some honor to him. A sense of responsibility for his actions, leastways. He wouldn't just leave their shit there for someone else to take, right? He'd gone back for Merle. He-

He'd left them.

He'd fucking left them, the same as he left Merle.

Daryl slapped the papers into Glenn's chest, doing his best to keep his anger in check and not take it out on the kid. “Get your shit. We're gonna get my gun back.”

“Your gun?” Glenn looked up from his hands as he fingered the papers nervously.

Daryl nodded, chewed on his thumb for a second and gestured at his brother's bike, “Merle's gun is gone. I 'spect they went through all our shit for any weapons they could. Water an' food, too. Most likely. If they took his, they took mine. I want it back.”

Glenn nodded mutely and turned around, started across the camp to his tent and whatever the group had left of it. When he got back about ten minutes later, Daryl already had his things ready to pack up. They didn't have a lot of space on the bike. Most of the essentials would have to be kept in the saddlebags and on their persons. He'd rigged a holder for his crossbow at the very back easily enough. But all the extra shit – the stuff they could dump if they needed to but was still nice to have – would need to go in Glenn's big ass backpack.

Daryl didn't ask before he was tugging the thing off Glenn's shoulder so he could go through it. And Glenn didn't question his actions. He watched quietly as Daryl unpacked everything and re-packed with the important things going into ziplocs that then went into the saddlebags. As Daryl handed him his bag back, he finally spoke, “So... when we get your gun back... What then?”

“What do mean what then?” Daryl snorted, squinting at the man and pulling on his brother's spare vest. He checked himself for his knives before pulling one out of his boot and offering it for Glenn to take. It'd be easier to carry than that bat of his. Better in close quarters, too. “We point it in their faces and ask them what the hell they were thinkin' leaving us like that. That's what.”

Glenn took the knife, hooked it to his belt, “And when we get guns pointed back at us in reply? I really don't want 'death, cowboy style' being part of the plan. I'd rather not die today. Or any day.”

“Figure that out when we get there, I suppose,” Daryl offered with a half-hearted shrug before swinging his leg over the back of the bike. “You ever ridden before?”

“Yeah. Sort of,” Glenn said as he climbed on behind him.

“Sort of?” he raised an eyebrow and turned to look over his shoulder. A moment later he reached back and snapped that stupid hat off Glenn's head. He didn't need it scraping the back of his head or digging into his neck while they rode. He ignored the soft 'hey!' of protest as he rolled it up and shoved it into the front of his pants. Was easier than trying to find a pocket to shove it in and still sit comfortable.

Glenn settled his hands on Daryl's belt, holding it loosely like he really had done this before, “I've ridden scooters and mopeds before. Sometimes I doubled up.”

“Ridin' bitch is ridin' bitch,” Daryl agreed with a grin thrown over his shoulder, earning him a dry 'ha ha' before he started the engine and they pulled out of camp. The note for Morgan was left where it had been. A little more crumpled and without a map, but they figured as breadcrumbs went, it would do.

…

Joking aside, Daryl was more used to riding bitch than he was having someone ride it with him. He'd spent more time on the back of Merle's bike than he'd ever spent in control of one. Sure, he'd learned to ride. Merle had seen to that. But it didn't mean he was exactly used to it. Merle was part of the gang.

The truck was more Daryl's thing.

But as far as gas mileage and maneuverability went, the bike had the advantage. 200 miles to the gallon on a three-gallon tank. Meant they could get around the city and out the hundred mile trip a lot faster than a bunch of cars and an RV. Also meant they had an easier time turning around and back-tracking when too many walkers crowded the roads and Daryl didn't feel like risking a run through them.

What would have been a two-hour drive (at most) before everything fell apart became a four hour one that ended with them arriving at the CDC just as the sun was crossing the horizon.

Luck was sort-of with them because the others from the quarry were there. They were running between their cars and the open doors, grabbing supplies and firing away at the walkers starting to crowd in on them, drawn by the noise. Daryl didn't bother stopping when he saw those open doors.

He told Glenn to hang on tight and hit the gas, tearing their way through the bodies laid out on the lawn and forcing the group to dive out of the way before crowding inside the doors behind them. When they were inside, Daryl spun them to a stop near the far wall and cut the engine. He leaned back, one hand on the handle bars and the other to his mouth. Watching the group as they gathered inside and the doors shut. He could feel Glenn breathing heavily against his back. The kid's fingers were still hooked around his belt and for the moment he was fine with them staying there.

The stare down they were just starting to have was interrupted by the sound of a gun being cocked. All heads turned toward it and they were introduced to Doctor Jenner.

…

Dinner was happy affair for most of the group. But as Shane became a killjoy and Glenn called him on it in that soft voice of his, Daryl got up and grabbed four bottles of wine and the whiskey.

He held them aloft, “These here? These are ours.” He pointed haphazardly between him and Glenn. “We're gonna go find a place to lay our asses down and get shitfaced drunk.”

A chorus of protests, the group smiling and inviting the two of them to stay and talk was ignored. But Glenn was laughing even as he was getting up and following, taking one of the bottles for himself. So no one really noticed that Daryl was serious. And then Jenner was standing up and saying he could show them some places to lay down. Even take some hot showers. The good feelings and buzzed atmosphere continued into the guest offices.

Daryl claimed a room for himself and dragged Glenn inside by the shoulders. Glenn grinned at him, taking a long drink from the wine he'd snagged, “Hot showers.”

“Yeah, I heard,” Daryl snickered, his hand finding its way to the back of Glenn's neck so he could hold onto him for a second. “Race you to it.”

And then Daryl pushed Glenn down and to the side, earning him a loud laugh from the kid as he darted for the attached bath. He had just managed to get inside when Glenn snagged his shirt and pulled him backwards. It threw him off for a few seconds. Enough that Glenn was able to get himself inside the shower stall and shout triumphantly, completely unaware of the sudden panic that had flashed through Daryl. He'd forgotten how quick Glenn was and that the easiest thing to grab would be his shirt. He'd let his guard down.

It took him a minute to get himself back to where he needed to be. By then Glenn had the stall closed and his clothes were being tossed over the side. Daryl didn't have to worry about the kid seeing him out of sorts. He had time to compose himself.

He decided he didn't need a shower after all and when Glenn got out and joined him on the couch, Daryl was already three sheets to the wind and feeling fine. They fell asleep on top of each other mostly by accident. Daryl was hogging the last of the alcohol they'd claimed and Glenn was trying to grab it, climbing over him because it was too difficult to stand. At some point during that they both passed out.

…

Morning came and with it Jenner's explanation of the virus. Daryl left to get shitfaced drunk (again) and Glenn stayed with the others in the group because he didn't feel like making himself that sick again so soon. They quickly escalated into a panic because Jenner was dead set (emphasis on 'dead') on letting all of them blow the hell up.

The worst of it all for Daryl, though, was when the doors were finally open and they had all of twenty minutes to get their shit and get their asses out of there.

“Go on,” Jacqui said to T-Dog as he pulled up short because she did. She let go of his hand, “Go on. You don't have much time.”

Rick and Shane, they looked at her, hung their heads, and ran. Lori, too. Carol was already long gone with Sophia. Dale and Andrea were staring. Daryl was, too.

Daryl shared a look with Glenn, then shook his head, “Nah uh. You ain't stayin'.”

“I know what I'm doing,” she replied, expression serene. “I want to opt out.”

“You don't get to do that,” Daryl shouted at her, surprising himself with the vehemence of those words. He turned to Glenn, “Get our shit and get the bike started.”

Glenn rushed off and Daryl stomped his way down the metal plank, he pushed on T-Dog's shoulder to get him moving. Jacqui protested, she protested loudly, but Daryl didn't listen.

“No,” he shook his head, closing into her personal space. “You don't get to give the hell up. You're better than that. You're better than that prick over there with nothing left to live for. You got people that care 'bout you! You're just gonna leave them?”

“It's my choice!” She choked out, nearly in tears.

Daryl wasn't going to have that, though. He wasn't going to let Rick just leave someone. Not again. “No,” he said and bent down to throw his shoulder into her stomach. He got her up over his shoulder and she didn't fight him as he looped his arm securely around her legs and started to run. He didn't see Andrea go sit down or Dale follow her. He didn't know he had someone else that needed saving.

Jacqui cried against his back, was dead weight for a while. But after they were in the elevator she heaved a great big sigh, “Put me down.”

“You gonna run back down there?” he asked, still holding her firmly.

He could feel her move, probably shaking her head, “No. No, I won't. I'll come with you.”

Daryl hesitated for a moment. Only a moment. Then he set her down and the doors opened to the chaos of everyone already up there trying to get the windows to break. Glenn was on the bike, his backpack on and Jacqui's things bungie-corded to the back over Daryl's crossbow.

“Get on the bike,” Daryl told her pushing her forward lightly as he hefted the ax he was still holding. “Hold on to Glenn by the waist and lean against his back. Stick with him and to him until he tells you to get off.”

She nodded and hurried to do so. Glenn threw him a questioning look and Daryl started running for the window, “Once it's open you ride the two of you out of here.”

Glenn's eyes went wide, but he didn't protest. Just gave a single, firm, nod and revved the engine.

The ax didn't do anything to the window. The gun fired into it didn't either. But then Carol produced a grenade from somewhere and Daryl barely had time to duck around the corner before the glass shattered. Glenn didn't hesitate. As soon as the explosion happened he was gunning the bike up the stairs. All the way to the top before he turned around and set it to jump the rail on its way back down.

“Rode a moped or two, my ass,” Daryl muttered to himself as he and the others followed after in a dead run across the lawn. He had two axes by then and there were a more than a few walkers who lost their heads as he cleared the path for those who were slower on their feet. Glenn pulled the bike around behind the RV and Daryl ended up climbing into the thing with Rick and his family. Mostly people piled into whatever was easiest to get inside. T-Dog went for his van. Shane for his Jeep. Carol and Sophia for the Grimes' car.

Glenn was near the kitchen window, the one that overlooked the table. Daryl crowded into the seat there and tapped it, getting the other man's attention. Both he and Jacqui looked up. There were smiles of relief from both of them and he gave them a genuine one in return. The relief was short lived as he heard Rick muttering from the front.

Muttering that was followed up by Lori with a panicked, “They have to make it.”

“Who?” Daryl snapped, climbing out of his seat to look out the front, back at the building.

“Andrea and Dale,” Lori answered, her hands gripping her son tightly. “They weren't behind us. I didn't see them come out.”

Daryl licked his lips, heart beating too heavily in his chest, “They were behind us. Me an' Glenn and Jacqui.”

“Jacqui got out?” Rick asked, both surprised and relieved, his eyes wide as he blinked up at Daryl.

Daryl snorted and kept his attention on the building, “No thanks to you.”

At least he and Lori both had the sense to feel ashamed of themselves before Carl straightened up and pointed, “There they are!”

Daryl was at the door of the RV half a second later, screaming his head off, “RUN! GET YOUR ASSES OVER HERE!”

The two barely made it behind a sandbag barrier before everyone was having to duck down, the explosion rocking the vehicles.

…

They spent that night in what was left of the Vatos' home. It had only been a day, just one night, but the whole group was dead. Slaughtered by other survivors. Straight out executed in their own beds. Even the old folks who couldn't fight back. Who there wasn't any reason to hurt because they wouldn't have been able to fight back. A bunch of sick fucks did that.

Glenn took forever to fall asleep. So did Daryl. The two curled up against each other in the corner of the room the group had picked. Both of them quiet. Both of them facing the others as if they had only each other to face the world with. Daryl was starting to feel they just might.

None of them had really talked about being left behind yet. Not even an apology for it. No mention of how the note they'd found had been for someone else and the assumption that Merle's bike was the group's to give away as they saw fit. Daryl was used to feeling like an outsider, so he wasn't that surprised they'd been so casual with his shit. But Glenn wasn't. He'd been a friend to them. Someone they relied on. And they'd left him out in the cold as much as they had Daryl.

When most of the group was asleep, Daryl nudged Glenn to get his attention. The kid turned his head from where it lay on his shoulder and looked at him with bleary eyes. He was at that point where he was so tired he desperately needed to let his body shut but his head was too busy and riled up to let him. Daryl knew it because he was, too.

He tilted his head toward the door, trying to tell Glenn he wanted them to both get up and leave for a bit. It took Glenn a few minutes of looking confused before he finally got it. He stood up, using Daryl as leverage, and stretched before holding his hand out to help Daryl up. He didn't really need to, but he was tired too, and Glenn was offering. So he did.

They got a questioning look from Shane as the man stirred awake for a second. Daryl made an exaggerated hand motion as he mouthed 'gotta pee' that had Shane waving them off before he made himself comfortable and promptly fell asleep. Daryl did the same when T-Dog gave them the same look from where he sat on look out at the top of the stairs. And Daryl got the same response as he led Glenn down the hall to where they'd found a not-so-working toilet earlier.

When they were inside, Glenn went and sat down on the floor, yawning. He took a moment to try and clear the sleep from his eyes, then asked, “What's up?”

Daryl shrugged, joining him and leaning his shoulder against the kid's, “Think we should leave.”

That got him a few slow blinks and scrunched eyebrows, “Right now?”

“Naw,” he yawned right before cracking his neck and stretching his arms in front of him, “Thinking after we see them to Fort Benning.”

“What if Fort Benning's a bust?” Glenn asked, once more leaning his head against Daryl's shoulder and taking a deep breath that turned into a yawn of his own.

“Then it's a bust and they're on their own,” Daryl answered, his thumb finding its way to his mouth as it usually did. “We don't owe them anything.”

Glenn shifted, lifted his nearest hand to put it on the one Daryl had in his teeth. Pulled it away. Wove his fingers between Daryl's. Daryl let him. He would later blame it on how tired he was.

“What about Jacqui?” Glenn's words came five or ten minutes later, after he'd let himself think about it.

Daryl could only sigh, “Only two people fit on the bike.”

“They were going to let her stay,” Glenn said, voice even. He wasn't judging Daryl for his words. He sounded like he was trying to puzzle it out.

“They were going to leave her,” Daryl corrected, chewing on the thumb of his other hand. “But we can only fit two people on the bike.”

Glenn nodded, his cheek rubbing against Daryl's shoulder in a way that wasn't entirely unpleasant for the man, “We could find a car. Something with a trailer hitch to haul the bike.”

Daryl's thumb, the other one, slipped across the side of Glenn's hand as he unconsciously worried it, “What? You don't wanna play Evel Knievel anymore?”

He was rewarded with a laugh and Glenn curling into himself from the effort to keep it quiet.

“What the hell was that anyway?” He asked, joining in the laughter with a grin of his own and a soft chuckle.

“I used to steal cars,” Glenn leaned his head back to meet his eyes, keeping his cheek on Daryl's shoulder the whole time. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. “I might have stolen a motorcycle or two while I was at it.”

Daryl stared at him, at that cheeky little grin on the kid's face, and could only meet it with a snort, “Thought you delivered pizzas.”

“I did,” Glenn said, letting his head fall back down. “For the last year or so I delivered pizzas. In Macon. Before that, though, I was in college and had a lot of debt and couldn't hold down a job that would pay for both my bills and my school. A friend of mine hooked me up with this small time chop shop. They paid good money for economy cars. Cars that had a good shelf life, but parts were getting harder to get a hold of because they weren't in production anymore. I learned to get around Atlanta pretty fast that way. Learned to stay out of sight, too. It's pretty much why I'm as good at runs as I am.”

“So why'd you stop?” Daryl asked, feeling suddenly curious about the kid and this side of him. The sneaky, not-so-goody-goody side.

Glenn sighed and let go of Daryl's hand to push himself up so he wasn't slumping anymore. Daryl felt something he didn't want to put thought to when his fingers were left suddenly very cold. Instead, he moved it back into his lap.

“I almost got arrested one too many times,” Glenn answered, resting his head back against the wall as he stared off into the distance. Like he was seeing the past play out in his mind. “That wasn't the first time I've had to ride a bike upstairs. Except then it was to lose the cops trying to tackle me, not get my ass out of the fire.”

“Bet you looked like your ass was on fire when you did it,” Daryl grinned over at him, looking him in the eyes briefly before they both looked away. Glenn back to his memories and Daryl to his hands.

Glenn's head nodded slowly, “Yeah... a few months after that I dropped out of school and moved to Macon. I was trying to start my life over. I only came back to Atlanta after things went down because I still had friends there I wanted to look in on. I left a group in Macon when I came.”

“Were they safe when you left?” Daryl asked cautiously, quietly.

“Yeah,” Glenn answered and there wasn't any guilt in his voice, so Daryl figured he was sure of them. “They'd found a motel that was in decent shape. One with walls around the parking lot. They were talking about making a barrier across the entrance to fortify it while they waited for the government to come.”

“Government's not coming, though.”

“I know.”

Daryl couldn't take the silence that fell after that for some reason and nudged Glenn's shoulder, “We could go check in on 'em. See if they're still there.”

Glenn smiled, finally looking sleepy enough to pass out, and leaned his head back against Daryl's shoulder, “After we get to Fort Benning.”

“Sure. After Fort Benning.” 


	2. Into the Fire

They spent a day in the suburbs getting their shit together. The others reduced their vehicle count from four to two: the RV and the Grimes' car. Merle's bike made three. Most of the time was spent going through their supplies and gear and figuring out what needed to be kept verses what they could afford to keep as far as hauling space went. Glenn and Daryl had nothing to add to the piles since they'd already been forced to reduce their own loads just to follow the others to the CDC.

Glenn felt both resentful for that and bitterly pleased that the group had to make the same kind of choices. He'd left all but two changes of clothes behind, same as Daryl. It was all they'd had room for. An extra pair of pants, a spare t-shirt, and a long sleeve shirt each. Socks and boxers they'd managed to roll a few pairs together into small balls that they could shove in the sides. But nothing else personal, really, save for what they were already wearing.

He hung back while they figured things out, alternating between watching them and keeping watch for geeks. And sometimes watching Daryl. The man stayed on the bike, sitting on it in an easy way. He seemed to relax more when he pushed himself to the very back, where Glenn had been. Like he was more used to sitting there than up front. Which actually made sense when Glenn thought about it. The bike belonged to Merle. Daryl probably _was_ used to 'riding bitch'. That made Glenn smile and the smile stuck with him the rest of the day. He figured he probably looked really stupid, but he didn't really care.

…

“Glenn,” Dale called over to him with a grin as they got ready to head out the next morning. He held up an atlas, “You willing to play navigator for us?”

Daryl shot him a look and tried to pretend he hadn't, his eyes darting away as he dug into one of the saddlebags like he suddenly had to quadruple check them. Glenn knew the other man was paying very close attention to how he answered. To Glenn's eyes he was nervous, every muscle tightly wound, somewhere between worried and offended.

Glenn smiled at Dale and nodded as he called back, “Sure. Be there in a second.”

The old man answered with a wave and went to climb into the RV while the rest of the group got themselves into which ever vehicle they'd decided to take. Shane, Andrea, Jacqui, and T-Dog were riding in the RV. Rick, Lori, Carl, Carol, and Sophia in the Grimes' car. Glenn shrugged his backpack off and held it out to Daryl. He was met with a look he thought was probably confusion. It might have been constipation or annoyance, though. He was still getting used to reading Daryl's face.

“I'm going to navigate,” Glenn explained as if Daryl hadn't heard that already, giving the backpack a little shake. “Can't really fit into the seat wearing this.”

“And you think that means I'll carry it?” Daryl asked back even as he reached out to take it.

Glenn shrugged, “Figured it'll be safer with you.”

Daryl snorted and pulled it on, then pulled Glenn's hat out of the front of his pants and handed it over. Glenn had forgotten that he'd put it there two days before. He hadn't even noticed it. Had it been there the whole time? That couldn't be right... Daryl had to have taken it out to take a shower, right? Wait, did Daryl take a shower?

Glenn stared stupidly down at his hat, unrolling it as he realized Daryl hadn't showered at the CDC. He hadn't showered in a while. He hadn't even changed his clothes. So his hat really had been sitting there, tucked inside the front of Daryl's pants, for two whole days. Holy shit.

He gulped and gave a quick nod and a wave to Daryl rather than look up at him, then jogged to the RV. When he got into the passenger seat he very carefully pulled his hat past his face so he could take a quick sniff of it before he put it on his head. Which was not a good idea because it smelled terrible. _Terrible_. Every romance writer he'd ever had the misfortune of reading was completely wrong about sweaty clothes that hadn't left the person wearing them for ages. They weren't 'covered with their scent', they were sweaty and smelly and he was lucky he had smelled so much worse before this or he would have gagged and probably thrown up right then. As it was he made a face that had Dale giving him a raised eyebrow.

“Forgot to wash my hat,” Glenn said back, nose wrinkled. “Shouldn't have inhaled when I did.”

Dale's laughter filled the cab and the best Glenn could do was direct them toward the highway while Daryl scouted ahead.

…

By the time they came to the traffic jam late in the afternoon, Daryl had relaxed into his role as the head of the small caravan. He would fall back to shout up at Glenn every so often to warn of derelict cars they'd have to slow down for and ask for alternate routes the map said should be there when they couldn't go around. At the jam he fell in where Dale could ask him to find a way through and he honestly tried. But even Glenn wasn't optimistic when they got to the point where their best bet was backing the hell up.

Glenn climbed out of the RV when it finally gave out because of the stupid hose and Daryl brought the bike back around to check on them.

His first words were to Glenn, “Your map show any other way 'round this mess?”

Glenn crossed his arms and squinted, looking back the way they'd come and the scattered cars that were essentially blocking them in, “There's a turn off a couple miles back. It's small, but it's on the map. Leads to a town I'd say is about three miles out? Might be able to go through it and out the other side. It would be better if we scouted it ahead of time, though.”

“We can move some of these cars while you do,” Shane said, volunteering Daryl for the job. Which wasn't a great idea and Glenn could see the scowl and belligerent protest already forming in his friend's eyes while Shane continued. “We got maybe two or three hours of sunlight left. You do a quick circuit, figure out if it's better to keep moving cars or turn ourselves around. We can camp for the night and do what we need to in the morning.”

“I can go with you,” Glenn spoke up before Daryl could find a way to object. He grinned at Daryl, “If the town's in decent shape we can turn it into a run, too. See if there's a drug store or a decent general store. Get some medical supplies. Sun screen. Maybe some candy bars.”

Rick had joined them by then and both he and Shane were grinning at Glenn. The senior deputy nodded along, “That sounds like a plan to me. We'll see about scavenging what we can out here. Siphon some gas, try to find a hose for Dale. Maybe scrounge up some food that hasn't gone bad yet. Water, if we're lucky.”

Glenn thought it sounded good and Daryl had relaxed a bit at his own suggestion. He nodded and muttered, “I can do that,” under his breath and pulled the straps of the backpack off. T-Dog jogged past the group with a gas can and Shane followed after giving a quick nod to Rick, who was already taking up a spot as lookout while the women spread out to scavenge with the kids.

“I'll put this in the RV for now,” Glenn said to Daryl after the backpack was handed over. He got a non-committal grunt in response, but Daryl didn't bother moving.

He was inside with Andrea, who gave him a weak smile as he went to stow the bag, when he heard Dale hit the deck on the top of the RV. That was the only warning he got before he was at the door looking for everyone. They'd all disappeared, even Daryl. When he looked the other direction, he didn't see anything. But when he turned around and got a good look out the kitchen window, he saw what had caused everyone to go quiet. It was all he could do to pull the door of the RV shut and point to the back when Andrea lifted her head in question.

She took a quick look around, saw the walkers out the window and scrambled onto the floor. Glenn followed after, sliding the bathroom door open as she backed her way inside. He pushed his way in to join her. None too soon, it seemed, as he heard the groan of a walker and the scraping of something pushing its way inside the camper. Glenn put a finger to his mouth and very carefully leaned his back against the bathroom door to hold it shut.

He and Andrea stood there, stock still and trying not to breathe too heavily, for what seemed like hours while the walker took it's time wandering back and forth inside the RV. Searching, smelling, listening, searching some more. Eventually, and that eventually seemed like an eternity later, there was no sound from the other side of the door. Glenn was afraid to risk checking, though. Even when he heard Dale moving around above him and climbing down the side.

A scream from somewhere far off startled them and Andrea let out a squeak before she could cover her mouth. Almost immediately the door of the bathroom shook and the hungry groan of a walker filled their ears. It hadn't gone away, it had just gone quiet. Glenn gulped hard, his breathing suddenly ragged from the surge of fear and adrenaline. Whatever was going on outside meant he and Andrea were pretty much on their own.

“I can hold the door,” he whispered out, wincing as the door shook from another slam on the other side. “It can't get us if the door is kept shut. We just need to stay here and wait for the others to take care of it.”

Andrea shook her head, already crying, “What if they don't come? What if they're already dead?”

“They aren't.”

“There was a scream.”

Glenn shook his head, wincing again and hissing as the next slam shook the door hard enough to knock his head a bit, “It was only one. Someone might have gotten grabbed, but it wasn't more than one. They'll get us out. Daryl won't let them leave us.”

'Not again' he left unsaid. Andrea didn't need to hear him being bitter. She needed him to be confident. And if there was anything he was confident in at the moment, it was that if everything else went to hell, Daryl, at least, would get to them.

…

When they were finally rescued from the bathroom, it was Jacqui that met them on the other side. She screamed when she saw the walker. They had heard that before they heard it shuffle away after her. The RV rocked after that and the screaming stopped. Then there was the echo of feet rushing inside and someone knocking hard on the bathroom door.

And Jacqui's voice, “Glenn? Andrea? Are you in there? Please don't be one of them. Please...”

Glenn had to push himself up against Andrea to get the door open, but when he did he was laughing. Both of them were. Hysteric laughter mixed with tears as both of them reached out to hug Jacqui tightly. Glenn thought that woman never looked so beautiful as when she was rescuing him from a long, slow death in a toilet.

“What happened?” Andrea asked after they got themselves out of the bathroom and made their way outside.

The walker that had trapped them, or so Glenn assumed it was since it was the only one nearby, had been killed against the side of the RV. At least from the blood splattering the siding it looked like it. That and the rocking from before made it a safe bet. The body was already gone and from the way Shane was wiping his hands as he walked back from the side of the road, he'd probably dragged it off.

“A herd came through,” Jacqui replied softly, holding Andrea by the shoulders while Dale came up to fuss over her.

Andrea gave him the cold shoulder, though, and a glare, too. Made him back off before she turned her attention back to Jacqui, “We heard a scream.”

“It was Sophia,” Carol said, voice wispy as she struggled not to sob.

Lori hugged the woman and nodded, continuing for her, “We were hiding under the cars and the walkers were mostly past us. But there were some stragglers we didn't see and Sophia crawled out too soon. They tried to grab her and she ran. Rick went after her. Then Daryl after he got T back to us.”

Glenn looked around for T and spotted him leaning against one of the abandoned cars, arm clutched to his chest and covered in blood. “Oh god what happened?”

“Cut myself on a door trying to hide,” the man answered, breathing hard as he bit back the pain. “Daryl found me, got me on the ground and covered me with some walkers. Hid my scent from them. Saved my life.”

“We need to cover your arm,” Glenn responded, barely registering the surprised looks on the faces of the others over what T had said about Daryl. He would remember that for later, though, if any of them tried to say something bad about him again. Like he had to prove himself to be as good a person as the rest of them when he hadn't been the one to leave someone – more than one someones – behind. That was Rick. And T-Dog. Twice. T-Dog was lucky Daryl was such a good person.

“It's covered,” came the reply and another hard swallow. “It's just the blood on my shirt making it dirty.”

Glenn moved over to the bike, opening up the saddlebags like he was allowed to go through them, “It should be kept clean. Is it infected?”

“We can't tell,” Dale answered, sounding more than a little exasperated at Glenn for some reason. “We cleaned it as best we could with the water we found, but we're really low on any kind of bandages.”

“Feeling a little feverish,” T-Dog admitted. “Could just be the pain, though.”

Once he found the drug stash, he dug through it for the painkillers Daryl had mentioned. He didn't know what the rest of it was. Daryl had only mentioned the name of one of them when he packed it with the 'important' stuff. Said it was an opioid. Prescription-legal only. Which was why Merle had it in the first place. Because it was somewhere on par with heroin.

Glenn found the bottle and took only one pill from it before putting it back. He was careful to close up the stash and put it back under the other supplies. When the saddlebag was secured again, he walked over to T and held the pill out, “Oxycotin. Daryl said Merle was abusing it, but it's supposed to be a really good painkiller. I don't know what else the rest does.”

Daryl answered that question later when he dug out the doxycycline and let the group have half the bottle. Apparently there were legit antibiotics in there, not just the meth and speed substitutes.

…

Rick returned first, a good half hour after he left. His shirt was bloody and he looked around expectantly as he climbed over the guardrail. Confused as everyone else stared back at him.

“Where's Sophia?”

He asked it the same time as Carol and the two were left eyeing each other with pained expressions. They nearly mirrored each other as their hands went to their mouths. Though that was where the mirror ended as Carol folded in on herself and started to sob while Rick turned himself around to look back at the forest, legs giving out on him to the point he had to steady himself on the metal of the rail.

“Daryl followed you out,” Glenn said into the silence. “He's out there still, too.”

Rick nodded, letting himself focus on that. It seemed to help him pull himself out of the moment of despair he'd been sinking into. He took a deep breath and steadied himself physically. Took another breath and pointed, “Okay. I know where I left her while I drew the walkers away.”

“You left her?” Carol gasped out.

“There were two walkers and I didn't have my gun,” Rick answered, rubbing his face. “I had to pull them away. I told her to head back to the highway once it was clear. Told her how to get here.”

Glenn moved past Carol and hopped the guardrail, “Then she might be on her way. Let's go to where you left her and look from there.”

Shane followed him and after a couple seconds, Rick trotted after them, taking the lead.

…

They didn't find her before they had to go back. Night was starting to fall and they didn't have enough light to keep going. They all felt pretty defeated. Rick most of all. He was wracked with guilt, fighting back tears the whole way. Shane tried to reassure him he'd done all he could.

But Rick kept looking at Glenn. And Glenn didn't bother to give him what he was looking for. Rick had left Sophia the same as he'd left Merle. The same as he'd left Daryl and Glenn. The same as he'd left Jacqui. He deserved his guilt.

The issues mostly resolved themselves when they finally made it back to the highway. Not Rick's guilt, but Sophia being gone. Daryl was waiting for them on the guardrail, crossbow loose in his right hand, ready to be raised if a walker showed it's ugly face. Glenn smiled as soon as he saw him, grinning like a fool. He got a quick smile back before Daryl's eyes moved to Rick and his face became a mask of hate.

“You left her,” the words were out of Daryl's mouth when the three of them were close enough to hear without anyone having to raise their voice.

“I went back for her,” Rick answered, tired, still guilty.

Daryl cocked his head to the side, staring like he was looking through him, “Like you came back for me and Glenn?”

“That was different!” Shane bit out, coming to his friend's defense at the same time Rick answered, “I didn't know where you were. I knew where I left her!”

“What about Jacqui? You were gonna let her stay there. Get herself killed,” Daryl pressed, sounding far more calm than he looked despite the fact that he hadn't moved from that causal waiting pose.

Rick shook his head, hands going to his hips, “That was her choice.”

“Yeah, sure,” Daryl drawled, biting at his free thumb now, “And it was Merle's choice to get himself handcuffed to a roof, too.”

“He was a danger to the group,” Shane said.

Daryl met his look with raised eyebrows, “Says you.”

“Says T-Dog and-”

“T left him there, too. Same as rick,” Daryl interrupted, almost as if he'd been waiting for that defense. It was effective, shutting Shane down.

Rick took another breath, “Is this how it's gonna be, now?”

“It's how it already is,” Daryl said evenly. He let that sink in, eyeing Rick up and down before jerking his head behind him, “Found Sophia for you. She's with her ma.”

Glenn let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and leaned forward, holding himself up on the rail. Shane and Rick did similar. The tension in the air broken for the moment. The two deputies made their way back to the RV, leaving Glenn alone with Daryl.

Daryl turned his attention to Glenn then, “You went through Merle's stash.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Glenn answered not really that sorry. “T was hurt bad and I remembered the painkillers.”

“Doxycycline's an antibiotic,” he said, licking at his lips as his eyes swept back to the forest. He smirked like he was sharing the funniest joke ever, “Merle caught the clap. On occasion.”

Glenn laughed like it was the funniest joke ever, too.

…

Morning came and they got the RV turned around. Daryl and Glenn did the trip around through the town like they'd promised. They didn't talk during it. Not more than they had to. There was a sense of foreboding to the way Daryl acted that kept Glenn feeling subdued. He couldn't put a finger on what it was until after they returned a little after mid-day.

“'m goin',” Daryl said after about half the group had loaded themselves into their respective vehicles. He had waited until it was just him, Glenn, Dale, Rick, and Shane. Most of the men. The ones who'd been semi-making decisions for the rest of the group. Regardless of what protests they got.

“You don't have to-” Rick started.

But Daryl cut him off with a firm, “Yeah. I do.”

There was silence for a long moment as he waited for Rick to try and challenge it again. When he didn't Daryl went on, “I want some of those guns you left us for, too.”

Rick shared a look with Shane before nodding and agreeing with a soft, “...okay.”

Daryl stood up, clearly glad that was so easy, “Four handguns and a rifle. An' the ammo to go with 'em.”

“Four?” Shane asked while Rick kept his head down.

“Two for each of us,” Daryl answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And a rifle in case we need something more long distance than my 'bow.”

Shane stared at him before turning slowly to look at Glenn. Dale followed his gaze, surprised. Rick kept looking down. He was the only one who seemed to expect this.

“Glenn, you aren't going to go with him are you?” Dale asked, eyes wide, completely flabbergasted. Like it was the most insane thing he'd heard. Daryl leaving he could wrap his head around. But not Glenn, apparently.

Shane continued to stare at him while Rick eyed the ground and nudged at a few stray rocks with his toes. In the corner of his eye he could see Daryl checking his bike over one last time. There was tension in his shoulders. He was trying to pretend the silence wasn't killing him. Pretend he wasn't afraid Glenn would prove him wrong. Pretend he wasn't scared Glenn would leave him, too.

“We're going east.”

“Glenn...” Dale protested and in the corner of his eye he could see Daryl's shoulders relax.

“Daryl's never seen the ocean,” Glenn said, meeting Dales eyes and smiling. “Figure we might as well check that off the bucket list since we have the time now.”

Dale shook his head, still denying it, “But...”

So Glenn continued on, not letting him have time to make a coherent argument against it. “Key West, maybe. For the winter anyway. From there...” Glenn shrugged. “We're going to hit Macon first, though. See if any of my friends are still around.”

He was met with silence at that point. Dale looked like he wanted to say more but couldn't. Which was fine with Glenn. He really didn't want to have to argue the decision further.

“Could we have those guns now? We're kind of wasting daylight at this point.”

…

“Jacqui... Daryl and I are leaving.” Glenn had to gulp down his nerves as he looked to her. He'd already said goodbye to Carol and Sophia. To Lori and Carl. To Andrea and Dale. Shane and Rick had said their own before he went to look for Jacqui and T-Dog in the RV. He offered a soft smile. “Three on the bike will be a squeeze but we know we can find a truck or a car with a decent trailer hitch somewhere along here. If you want to come with us.”

She smiled back, put her hand first on his shoulder, then on his cheek, before shaking her head slowly, “I can't.”

“You don't want to?” Glenn's brows rose, surprised by that.

“I'd love to,” She said and held her hand up to stall any further response. “Really. But I _can't_. If I leave with the two of you, I'd just be running again same as I was at the CDC.”

“But Daryl and I aren't-”

“That's right. _You_ aren't. I would be.” Jacqui took a deep breath and dropped her hand. She rolled her shoulders back, straightening herself out. “Besides, someone has to make sure these people don't leave anyone else behind again. Since you and Daryl are going.”

Glenn dropped his eyes for a moment. Then he stepped in close and pulled her into a tight hug, “Keep them alive.”

“I'll do my best,” She whispered back, holding him just as tightly for a few long seconds.

When Glenn pulled away, he gave her another smile and stepped backwards out the door. But once he was outside, he didn't turn to look back. He walked straight for Daryl and the bike and climbed on. His fingers had barely hooked into his belt before they took off, peeling down the open highway and heading north. He already knew the exit they needed to take for Macon.

…

They weren't even a quarter of the way to Macon when they pulled off the road for the night. An old motel in the boonies served as their shelter. They cleared out the lobby, grabbed the keys to the first room they could find on the first floor, and then cleared that room out as well. The bike was parked inside and the curtains drawn. A second exit through the bathroom window was prepared in case they had visitors come morning. And finally, after everything was secured as much as they could, they crawled into the bed.

Glenn was a little surprised Daryl didn't protest sharing. But then again, they had fallen asleep next to each other for a few nights in a row already. Those had been uncomfortable affairs, though: the floor of room the Vatos had Daryl in, the couch at the CDC, the floor of the Vatos' bathroom, the booth seats in the RV's kitchen. This was an honest to goodness _bed_. And he just couldn't picture Daryl as the kind to willingly share, even with someone he trusted. However, he fought his natural inclination to make things more awkward and kept quiet about it.

Sometime later, as Glenn was starting to drift off to sleep, Daryl spoke. Voice soft, almost too soft to hear even as close as they were physically, with maybe a foot between them. “You really want to see the ocean?”

Glenn smiled and nodded, arms stretching their way under the pillow he'd claimed for himself, “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Cause you've never seen it.” He paused to gather his thoughts, knowing that probably wasn't going to be satisfactory if Daryl was asking about it so late at night when they should both be getting what sleep they could. “And I figure if the world's ended, we might as well make the most of it. I could never afford to go out that way. You know, before. Now the only thing it costs is time and determination.”

“Could cost your life,” Daryl murmured and Glenn could picture him chewing at one of his thumbs the way he always seemed to be.

Glenn reached over blindly, hand coming down on skin. Daryl stilled under his touch but didn't pull away. He let his fingers explore a little until he established where the man's elbow was and moved them down what he knew to be an arm. Daryl lowered it so he could do so a little easier. Still stiff, but allowing the familiarity.

After Glenn found his hand, he threaded their fingers together like he had the night they'd slept in the Vatos' bathroom. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes, practically falling asleep as he mumbled out, “Not with you to protect me.”

 


End file.
